


Love Just Because

by CryptofPandora, mystic_hyacinth



Series: Jack and Dimitri Discover Love [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Boundaries, Cock Rings, Cunnilingus, Dimitri belongs to my friend, Established Relationship, How Do I Tag, Implied Dysphoria, Jack is my character, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Pegging, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Wish me luck, edging?, one of my first attempts at cathartic writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryptofPandora/pseuds/CryptofPandora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth
Summary: Jackson Prince loves to do things for his boyfriend, even at the expense of his own pleasure and wellbeing. Dimitri only wants to make sure that Jack feels loved.





	Love Just Because

**Author's Note:**

> So I know its been a while since I posted to ao3 but I have a ton of these saved after spending the last several months writing them and hopefully someone gets the same feelings out of them as I do. This series is going to be nonlinear and dealing with several different topics!

I never really ask for much from anyone. It's an old habit that makes little things like asking someone to pass me something or asking someone for a ride feel like I'm asking them to pay my mortgage. It's a uneasy feeling, asking people things. After all, debts will inevitably pile up and soon you'll no longer be able to pay back what you owe through small favors and kindness. If I needed it, I made sure I could get it and if someone needed it more than me, I gave it away. That’s just how I worked.

However, this becomes difficult when your boyfriend is hellbent on pampering you, regardless of how many times to insist you don't want him to. There's always gifts of clothes and new faux gauges and promises of new instruments on birthdays. There's always flowers to hang up in your study once they’ve been dried and pressed. There’s always food and there's always an endless shower of affection. He gives until there’s nothing left and then he gives that away too.

Then here I am, playing catch up in order to give back so he doesn't feel like he never gets anything in return. 

I love him, of course I do, so I must give at all times, especially after receiving something, then I give twice as much. I buy him things, I cook for him and make sure he always comes home to a smiling boyfriend and a clean house. It's what I have to do.

Which is why my squeamishness over asking Mitri to top has had me worried sick for nearly a week.

We’ve been a legit couple for going on nine months at this point and we only really starting doing stuff six months in. I’m not sure how either of us managed to stave things for so long, especially since when we finally got into it, it was actually pretty decent - and it only got better. I topped him and he told me that was the first time anyone had. I felt powerful and relieved, I was finally a good boyfriend to somebody. He moaned and whined so prettily for me to peg him that I couldn’t deny it. It felt nice to be asked and wanted, to know that it was me and only me who could take him apart this way. 

It was selfish and territorial, I’ll admit, but the feeling was a coveted one, one I kept with me when I felt severely unloved. I could give and that was enough, I needn’t not receive.

However, three months after our initial foray this sort of aching began and I’ve tried to stamp it out and keep it caged. The whole point of this engagement is that Mitri always feels loved and pampered, that he is always satisfied and that he gets anything he could ever dream of. That was the rule, but nobody seemed to tell my stupid heart that.

I didn’t mind a little clothed heavy petting, a touch between the legs there, a grip of the thighs here, it was all standard protocol that didn’t bother me in the slightest. When the clothes came off, things felt different. I did everything I could to distract Mitri from me and my shit body. I sucked him off until he was a millisecond from nutting, I teased him until he begged and I made sure to use each one of his favorite toys without fail. I kept my binder on and made sure he couldn’t touch me where we both knew I would be too sensitive. I kept my cool, pounded him and slept like a baby afterwards.

Still, after a while, restlessness began to set in. I could handle it on my own at first (that is, ignoring it and hoping it went away) only for the next encounter to be marred with some type of jealousy furthered by a yearning I didn’t know existed in me. Every time I touched him, I wished he’d do the same to me, but when he tried, I would push him away as if his touch burned me.

Then he safeworded out, asking if I was okay.

I couldn’t lie to him, even as time stopped around me. I shook and my hands dug themselves into the sheets, trying to find words that matched my feelings.

I didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to breathe a word out of shame. I didn’t want to ruin sex for him. He needed this more than I did and I had to give it to him whether or not he touched me back.

I remember his hand on my cheek, my his leaning up to hold me when I remained silent. All the love in the world sat between me and him and I was too undeserving to take it. 

 

“Sometimes I think I’m pushing you away.”

“I can see that.” he said, and part of me felt crushed that he’d noticed, but part of me relieved at the fact as well.

“Can...maybe next time, can you do this to me?” my voice was tiny, barely audible to either of us.  
Mitri didn’t hesitate, smiling and giving a breathy ‘yes’, he asked if I still wanted to finish what we’d started and I said it didn’t matter.

“What do you want, kotenok?” he asked, not accepting my non-answer. 

I hated those four words. I had trained myself to barely want anything, especially if it had to come from someone else. Mitri wouldn’t let me go though and I held myself tight to him. 

I had promised myself I wouldn’t lie to him.

“I love you but I think I just wanna relax tonight.” I said, feeling a bit of relief. He kissed my forehead and I undid the harness around my hips, allowing my fake dick to fall against the carpet, my binder following soon after. 

In retrospect it was a moment of weakness, a frail lapse in judgement that should have never seen the light of day. To want was to give in to wants and I couldn’t afford that. 

However, I was irrational and weak-minded and so I told him no and asked him for something, knowing damn well he would give it to me.  
And I hated that I wanted him to do so.

~

We crack the windows a little tonight, spring is going faster than we both thought and neither Mitri or me is really ready to turn on the air (I don’t live at his house, but I’m here often enough that  
I could call it a second home if anything). It’s been about a week and between crazy hours at work and yet another ongoing Taylor-Ivan debacle this was the only night really see each other before life swept us up again. If all we had tonight was pizza and a few laughs out of Brooklyn Nine-Nine I would count that as a win. 

I hear the shower door open and a shiver runs through me. I asked for this, I remind myself. Sure, I ruined sex for Mitri that night but I asked for it. If I pussy out now all the stress I caused him would have been for nothing. 

I occupy myself with pretending to read as he enters the room, muttering to himself about laundry and with me absentmindedly saying that he needn’t worry about it. My eyes trace his body, his soaked hair the pinkish flush of his skin. It’s always a nice view for me and I make a nice game of turning back to my book whenever he turns to look at me.

“What’s that one about?” he asks, going in the closet to grab his clothes for tomorrow, I take quick glance at the curve of his back. 

“Took me forever to track it down, no library near us had it.” I smirk, feeling a little proud of myself. “It’s about this girl in Victorian England, she’s in an arranged marriage to this rich family because she’s an orphan and her adoptive parents are assholes, but she’s secretly in love with this poet’s daughter who lives in Scotland. It’s all very sapphic and sensual.” he chuckles at me and I wrap myself up a little tighter in my blanket as he makes his way back to the bed.

“Aren’t you getting a little old for those?” he asks, tapping at the pink ‘YA’ sticker on the spine of the book. 

“Literacy knows no age limit and these damn books are what got me through high school.” I say, feigning being offended. He puts his hands up in defense and smiles, “I’m just curious, you know I love your books.”

Alas, I cannot blush. “C’mon, I didn’t even write this one. If I did there’d be mermaids and three people would have died by now.”

“I know, kotenok.” he kisses my brow and I tuck myself more into my blanket, resting my book on the bedside table. “I meant because you like it, you know I couldn’t power through these like you could, I haven’t the time.”

“I don’t either but this is only like..three hundred pages, I could polish this off on my lunch break if I wanted to.”

Mitri kisses me again and suddenly it becomes a little bit more difficult to focus on reading. “And are you still keeping up with your writing?”

I don’t understand the small talk, honestly I’m just waiting for his dick to come out or for him to laugh in my face and tell me I’m not getting anything. “Not really, there’s been this thing at work that I’ve really been focusing all my time on, plus I’m trying to scrounge up so freelance work on the side.”

He nods and disappears back into the bathroom for a bit. I shrink a little bit more into the sheets. I’m not ready for this, I’m not ready for this. This was a mistake. He’s gonna be weirded out and he’s not gonna want me anymore and - 

In the midst of my spiral I don’t notice when my boyfriend comes back or when the huge overhead lights are turned off in favor of the soft pink-light lamp glow from the bedside table. He’s not naked as I thought, instead he’s dressed for bed in his pajama pants and missing a shirt. Suddenly I feel like I’m wearing too much.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, kotenok.” he says sweetly, laying his hand on my cheek again and I push into it. I shouldn’t be so easy. 

“Mitri, you don’t owe me anything.” I say, a weak defense. “If you really want me on top, I could do it no questions asked. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“But what do you want, Jack?” he asks. That fucking question again, I swear to God. 

I’m speechless. Here I am, the giver, the one who never wants and makes sure my Mitri needn’t want for anything either. I strive for being someone he never has to ask anything from, he never needs to demand it. If he’s hungry, dinners on the table. If the car breaks down, I’m hopping out to fix it. If he needs to be fucked, I’m there with the strap on ready. 

”I’m gonna look ugly. I’m gonna sound like a girl.”

“It doesn’t matter.” he coos. “What matters is that you give in, go with what happens as if nobody was watching you.”

“Give in?” the words taste like poison. 

“You know what I mean, Jack.” he coos. “Give into you, what your body wants.”

My first instinct is to say ‘my body never wants anything’ but that would be a lie. Of course, I need shit like water and hot showers, but to say my body wants something sounds wrong, the very concept feels foreign and ugly. 

“But I like topping you.” I mutter. “I like making you feel good.”

“Why can’t I want the same for you?” he says it so sweetly like he knows what he’s talking about. He’s so genuine, always so caring and gentle. He holds me as if I’m going to break and kisses me almost reverently. 

I’m stupid and weak and I know I’m gonna hate myself for this later, but the lovesick look in his eyes and the way he purrs out ‘darling’ and ‘kotenok’ has me close to quivering. I could safeword and tell him no, but I kiss him instead. I should be stronger in my convictions. I shouldn’t be so touch-starved. I shouldn’t ask for anything like always. I shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t want me.

“O-okay, go ahead.” 

“Are you sure?”

I nod and his lips return to my neck. This is fine, I tell myself, we’ve kissed before and I’m used to it. Still, everything feels warmer, I feel charged, overheated to the point of bursting. His grim on me is sturdy and I try to steel myself against it, try not to melt or push him away because of what’s to come. 

“Do you remember your safeword?”

My safeword, not the safeword. Oh, to own things and put your name on them. A little flutter runs through me just at that. “New Mexico.” I breathe out, and I can feel his lips curl against the crook of my neck. 

“I’m so glad you remembered.” he says and I look away from him, trying not to be seen.

Slowly my hands come to wrap around his back and I tug him closer, trying not to be insistent about it and failing. One of his hands begins to run up and down my sides, leaving a trembling trail in its wake. When he feels me move he returns to kiss me and somehow I’m steadied, the scratchiness of his beard against my chin grounding me in this world and tearing me out of my own head.

Somewhere distantly, I feel his hand press against my gut and one of his thumbs come to curl underneath the hem of my shirt. I don’t fuss, pulling him down closer to me and allowing the fabric to be drawn ever higher. 

“Do you want me to go slower?” he asks, eyes opening and I bite my lip, the way he’s looking at me you would think he was starving. I shake my head, telling him he’s doing alright.

“Remember, be honest with me.” he says it and lays a peck on my cheek before going back to working on his lips. His free hand is everywhere, though now so much out of passion as it is out of comfort or a bit of soft reassurance. I feel so overwhelmed with it, gentle squeezes up and down my arm, thumbing over the skin of my cheek the brushing away of frizzies from out of my face. It all feels so kind.

“This is cute.” he says, nudging at a particular bit of paunch with his thumb. “I’ve always loved your curves.” 

A strained little noise escapes the back of my throat, “For real?”

“Of course.” he smiles. “So soft and warm, back home it meant you came from a wealthy family.”

“You’re so old fashioned.”

“I’m serious!” he said, losing his cool for a minute and having his face flush red. “How do you think I got this big?”

“Med school?” I snark back, gently pressing my knee into his side. 

He rolls his eyes, “Oh hush,” he says. “What I mean to say is at least in the village, we would both be considered pretty good looking.” he kisses just above my belly button and I shiver. “However, none could be as handsome as you, Jackson Prince.”

I think I just came? Did I? I’m not sure. I never told Dimitri I had a thing for names or being praised, but who knows, maybe we’re far more similar than we thought. Either that or I’m just getting easier to read as I get older. I really should hide my kinks better, this is getting too easy if Mitri is able to pick up on them. 

Neither of us could miss the full body twitch I just did at his words and then part of me wanted to retreat into the mattress, hoping it would swallow me whole. I knew this would happen, giving one little bit of freedom and space I would lose my cool and embarrass myself. It doesn’t help that Mitri is sitting up now and looking down at me in a way that makes me feel like I’m under a microscope. In the midst of our kisses and banter my shirt has become a bunchy bit of fabric tucked under my chin and the only thing separating him from the bare skin of my chest being the navy blue of my binder. 

No one speaks but we both wait, whether it be a question or a silent entreatment to go on, neither of us is the first to goad the other. It’s a separation, this old binder and us. Sure, Mitri has been me without it, he knows what my tits look like, feels them pressing against his back or his chest or (occasionally) against his head when we sleep together, but it’s never been like this. 

His hands make their way to the sides of my ribs, thumbs curling right up against the elastic of my binder. No force or pressure applied at all, just to have them resting there is enough.

I can tell he’s not faring any better either, by the looks of his pajama pants he’s suffering. My first instinct is to tell him to forget about me and bend over so I can fuck him as soft and gently as he intended to do to me, but I try to quiet that down, remember his words.

Give into your body, give into what you want.

I love Mitri. I remind myself. I love him enough to trust him because he would do the same for me. 

“I got it.” I reassure him, but it comes out sounding more like a command then anything, “It’s not really all that sexy to take these things off anyways.” Mitri nods and I sit up, pulling myself out of the binder with minimal effort and allowing it to follow with a hollow thud onto the floor. I try not to cover myself up, scratching at the old acne scars and bruises that pepper the space between my collarbone and my tits. 

I can tell Mitri is trying to keep it together but I know where his eyes are resting and I look away, trying not to notice. He wants this, I can tell. I lay back down in front of him and try not to be so restless. 

“Was there anything special you wanted?” he asks. 

I’m unable to meet his eyes, speaking meekly. “I...I would rather you..Um…” I press my tits together. “Licked them? If that’s not weird?” God, is it prom night? What the hell is wrong with me? 

Why am I like this? 

“Why would that be weird?” he chuckles.

“You know.” I shrug, hoping he gets it and maybe even backs off, but he doesn’t, in fact he moves in even closer to me. 

“Your body isn’t weird, kotenok.” he purrs, kissing one nipple, my breath hitches. “There’s nothing wrong with it or you. I love it, every inch of you, I love it all.”

I want to speak but he’s alternating between kissing and sucking my nipples, leaving me breathy and mute. I bring my arm up to bite my wrist and stifle the noise but he gently takes it away. “I want to hear you, I don’t want you to be afraid of your own voice.” he says. “You don’t know what you do to me, darling.” he coos, making me buck up against him, as with every flick of his tongue it keeps getting harder to stay still. “Your smile, those eyes of yours, your soft skin, your laugh. All of it just makes a mess of me.” he says. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, to make you feel like the prince you are.” another wave of pleasure hits me and words are gone again. Where did he learn to talk like this? My legs wrap around him, silently begging for more even if I can’t bring myself to say it. 

“How badly I’ve wanted you like this, you’ll never know how much I need you.”

I squeal, my legs trembling around him. It shouldn’t be just the words that do this to me but I can’t help how pressed I am for it, the wants and needs that I’ve been trying to choke out have been set free and I am powerless to stop them as they mercilessly mow me down. 

Somewhere in between the sloppy kisses and talking moaning I feel his hand come up to settle between my legs, that damn thumb of his resting squarely against where the fabric of my boxers is quickly starting to dampen. I shake at the sudden contact and he slowly down, kissing my neck to bring my back while still keeping his other hand wrapped around my other nipple. 

“T-there.” I say and he complies with an unmistakable moan. The knuckle of his thumb rubs against me and I move my hips to meet him, quivering pathetically as he goes. My eyes slide closed as he goes to suck on my other tit and I feel my boxers starting to soak through. 

He looks up at me for a second and then darts his eyes down to the tangled mess of legs and crotches between us. I don’t speak, just nod and knot my fingers tighter in his hair as he positions himself and starts grinding against me. 

The friction is unbearable for the two of us and there’s a point where he has to stop sucking and just rest his head against my chest, my own moans joining with his. I try not to let myself yell too much lest my voice kick up into a higher octave then my liking, but the slow, desperate grind of Mitri against me. He’s straining and I can tell he’s really trying not to go any faster, not to push the delicate boundaries that have barely been set. 

I capture his lips in mine and his body jerks forward at the contact. In a moment of surprise I gasp, grinding back down to meet him and immediately covering my mouth afterwards. I can’t meet his eyes, not after doing that, but slowly he removes his hand from my mouth and leaves an airy peck on my lips.

“It’s okay, darling. I’m here.” he says, pulling me back down to earth again. He eases up and I take a deep breath, looking up at him.

“You didn’t finish like that, did you?” I ask.

Mitri shakes his head, “Nearly, but not quite.” he starts to scoot back a little more and some part of me thinks he’s just going to finish me off with something from the toy chest. However, his head begins to lower and his hands come to rest against sides of my boxers. “Remember, if it’s too much, just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“I’ll be fine, Mitri.” I say, I don’t know how much of it is true. I’m so goddamn sensitive I don’t know if the bed will catch fire before I nut. He kisses me one last time before slowly starting to work my boxers off me, I’m nice enough to lift my hips for him as he goes. 

“You forgot your packer?” he muses. 

“Didn’t forget,” I mutter, looking away. “I just thought you’d want easier access.”

Mitri snorts at my callousness and peels my boxers the rest of the way off, coming face to face with my soaked pussy. “I tried shaving so sorry if it’s a little scratchy.” I say after a few tense moments of silence.

He pats my thigh reassuringly. “No worries, I can make it work.” he says and starts kissing my inner thighs, beard ghosting up against my outer lips. My breath hitches again and my body shakes, the situation is too real.

He continues to kiss my inner thighs before I feel his breath against the lips again and everything seizes up. I have been eaten out before, that much I know and I will enjoy it because this is Mitri and I love him and oh fuck he’s really not giving me any time to mentally prepare for this is he? He licks a wide stripe up and down first, just barely dipping his tongue inside but taking the opportunity to sample me, I guess. Hopefully I taste good or maybe I taste like shit and he’s just not telling me. He would. 

Either way, Mitri doesn’t like to tease me all that much and soon after the first round of shaky legs and whispered affirmations he spreads my lips with his fingers and I am left exposed to him even if I’m already more naked.

“You think there’s bats hiding in there or something?” i ask, trying to keep the mood light.

He shakes his head. “It’s just so pretty, and look at how wet you are, darling.” before my embarrassment can register there’s a finger inside me, prodding and swiping around to try and see what’ll make me go mad. He notice how he’s ignoring my clit and probably think it for the better. I’ll just enjoy the grade A finger banging he’s giving me and try not to worry about it, simply rolling my hips lazily to meet his slow movement.

“You clench down so nicely.” he coos, slowly adding a second finger. “You’re so pretty when you’re like this, Jackson, spread out and needy.”

“M-Mitri.” I whisper. “C-come on.”

“Am I wrong?” he says and I feel his fingers start to curl inside me and it takes everything for me not to just come right there. The stretch is nice but I know it’s nowhere near what his cock is going to feel like, if he even wants it in me.

God I hope he does.

As his fingers curl and my words fail me again I feel his tongue start to go back in. He lays sloppy kisses against my folds until finally licking my clit.

I can’t help but clench and moan aloud, too overwrought with everything about this to care about decorum or keeping my voice down. Miri takes notice and starts working faster, his tongue licking all around my clit without aim or precision. I let my hips roll into his mouth and he does nothing to hold me down, closing his eyes and losing himself to it.

In the midst of the din I crack open one eye and see his free hand working profusely between his legs, his moans beginning to reverberate against my cunt and making my pleads and begs for more sound like garbled nonsense. He does it all with abandon and I’m moaning for him as if it were my first time.

“So perfect,” he whispers between licks. “You taste delicious.”

I cover my mouth and breathe through my nose. “Please, Mitri.” I beg him. “I don’t know if I can do -”

“Don’t hold back,” he breaths out, though the authority in his voice has largely disappeared. “If you want to, you can. It’s okay.”

I take his words and run with them, pulling him closer and closer to me and grinding down wildly on his tongue. My moans are breathless and a litany of curses spills from my lips, all ending in some loving version of his name. I can see him grinding against the bed, desperate as I am and I did that to him. He wants me so badly and I can see it, his neediness in his eyes and in his body in his goddamn tongue.

I come with a shout and my thighs clenching impossibly tight around Mitri’s head. From what I can glean just by the feel, he drinks all of it down and his eyes open to see me, breathless and possibly very ugly. Fuck. 

“You’ve gotta be wearing a ring,” I say, eyes closed. “There’s no way you haven’t come yet. I can smell how worked up you are.”

Mitri somehow manages to blush even harder than before and lift himself out from in between my legs. His pajama pants have been hastily shoved down and his cock is starting to turn purple with want.

Also, the silver ring that the base only proves I was right.

“All that for me?”

“I just like it!” he says a little to defensively as if he wants to throw me off his trail. “How do you feel?”

My over sensitive cunt twitches at his words and at the sight of him. “I could go again.” I say, knowing damn well I might regret it. I don’t miss the little sigh of relief Mitri gives me and I open my legs a little wider for him. No giving up now. You made it this far, soldier. As he rubs up against me the twitching starts again and before I can let out one full moan Mitri is kissing me deeply. 

When you’re a top I feel like it’s very easy to get lost in the act, you have to be domineering, you have to be sexy and in Mitri’s case, you have to also be sweet and reassuring. There’s no room for slip ups in the throes of passion, no breaking of character until both of you are on the verge of collapse. Even if this is supposed to be all about closeness and mutuality here’s a lovely thing about the special veil that domming provides. You can think clearly, you can be in your own head and your partner will be too far gone to notice.

However, when I’m trapped underneath two hundred pounds worth of Slav teddy bear, there’s a dick inside me and my heart is about to yeet itself from my chest, this is the only thing I can focus on. There’s no pretending, there’s no sleek, sexy veneer that I can use to tease and taunt.

I’m here. This is real and Mitri looks like he’s about to kill over with how slow he’s going and just how intently he’s watching me.

“I’m not gonna break in half.” I say, stroking the side of his face and trying to keep him from complimenting me. It’s the last vestige of covering up that I have.

“Is being able to admire the view a crime?” he asks, not in the slick, nearly condescending tone I usually reserve for him, but it’s so sweet my pancreas is shutting down just hearing him say it. 

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, how beautiful I knew you would look.” he twitches inside me and I feel a little bit more of the veneer fall away when I shake.

“And now I get to have it, I get to have you.” he chuckles and kisses me. In the midst of all of it, I brace myself, clinging on tightly to him so I don’t go flying off when his desperation kicks in and he drops all semblance of sweetness. 

There’s the moment of silence once he’s fully in there and I can only pretend that I was ready to begin with. It doesn’t feel awful but it’s not like you reach the age of consent and the give you training wheels to put on the first dick you ride. I doubt I could’ve ever been fully prepared for this.

I lean into the crook of his neck, trying to even my breathing. “Y-you’re - “

“Too much?”

“God no,” I breathe out. “You’re great it’s just wow, I’m sorry I put you through this that first night.”

He laughs, “You’re saying it like the pain doesn’t wear off after a while.” I can still tell he’s straining, the cock ring hasn’t been off five minutes and he’s still twitching. I really should reward him for keeping this up for so long but I have a feeling we’re gonna be knocked out before he even has a chance to slip out of me.

“Okay.” I nod to myself. “I think I’m good now, I think I’m ready.” he looks to me, brown eyes deep and sincere. “Whatever you say, darling.”

And then he drags outwards and I’m reminded of just how sensitive I am. I take my breath in through my teeth and try to ignore the burn, Mitri whispers to me throughout the entire thing, telling me how proud of me he is and how good I’m going and telling me the pain will be over soon, mixed even with a few groans and soft curses.  
I’m embarrassed again. I should be able to take him with no issue, but here he is having to baby me. I go to throw my arm over my face only to have it caught and promptly wrapped back around his neck.

“What did we say about hiding?”

“I shouldn’t be such a baby.” I grumble. “I should be doing cartwheels on your dick by now and I can’t.” 

“It’s your first time, nobody’s judging you.”

“I sound like a girl.” 

“Hey, hey -” he shushes me and I’m stilled. “Boy or girl, you’re still Jack and yes, you’ve never been in a position like this before, but how do you think I felt when you topped me?”

“Terrified?”

“That’s an understatement.” I’m surprised of just how civil we can be when he’s literally inside me. “But you have to let go, Jack. That’s all. Let go. We’ll catch each other.”

God he sounds like a shitty YA novel with a bland protagonist and a love interest who is far more interesting and I’m absolutely living for it. I secure myself one last time before he starts to speed up again and another string of moans come out of me and I try to do it, just try to turn my brain off for the time being. I can feel his body heating up from his powers, the heaviness of his accent, the slickness of his hair now that he’s just a bucket of sweat, the drag of him inside me and the feeling of fullness. Everything feels so real, so pulsating and hot-blooded that I almost can’t believe it’s true.

“Look at you, how beautiful you are.” he whispers. “My prince, my Jackson, I wanted to make you mine.”

I shudder, “M-more.”

I guess he gets confused as to whether or not more means more talking or more moving, so he gives me both, starting to move faster and faster inside me and not allowing me room to really breathe in between. “You mean the damn world to me, kotenok. My everything, my damn moon and stars. I love you so much, I love you. I love you.” 

“F-fuck, Mitri.” I squeal. “I love you too. God, I love you.” I whisper back, shutting my eyes so tightly I’m afraid I’ll tear through the lids. “D-dammit, you feel perfect.”

“Speak for yourself.” he groans. I chuckle at his, allowing him to sink his face into the crook of my neck. My fingers have long since sunk themselves into his back and he groans at every little drag they make against his skin. On his his hands leaves the side of my head and wiggles its way between us, going down towards my cunt and toying with my clit again. My entire body comes alight and I start clenching sporadically down on him, the friction and the tension only makes both of us moan. I want him inside me forever and he, like a good boyfriend, never wants to leave.  
“Jack, I - I’m getting close. I can’t - fuck - I don’t have much longer.” he huffs, slowing down as a warning.I feel greedy and needy and achy for him and I lock my legs about his waist with the strength of ten thousand switches with vulnerability issues. “Inside me, please.” I beg, voice high and a stray tear rolling down the side of my face as I call out to him. “I want you to finish inside me, baby boy. Make me yours, just please - “  
"But aren’t you on the - “  
I kiss him as if I’ll never kiss him again, my body wanting too much and the things I’ve tried to keep down for however long now are in full control.  
My eyes roll backwards as Mitri really starts putting in work to get us both there, throwing his back into it and feeling me coil tightly around him must be maddening. We kiss to ease the tension, whispering the last strained affirmations of love to each other as the world starts to blacken for me once again and for a second I feel like I’ve left my body. Somewhere in the distance I can hear Mitri groaning, feel his breath against my face and feel spurts of his come sink into me.  
It takes a while for us to catch both of our breaths, but when Mitri finally opens his eyes he’s looking up at me, checking for any pain or discomfort or regret and finding nothing  
“Kotenok? Do you need anything? How do you feel?” he fusses and I can’t help but to smile with my eyes closed.  
“R-really good actually.” I say. “Thank you.”  
“Why are you thanking me?”  
“Because you didn’t have to do that.” I say. “You could have told me no that first night.”  
“I don’t have to, but I want to.” he says, pulling me in so that I’m the little spoon. It’s another thing I find that really like and so I covet it too. There’s some quiet before I pipe up again. “I’m sorry I hid from you before.” I say. “I’m sorry if you felt like I couldn’t trust you.”  
He shushes me with another kiss. “It will take time and I’ll be there to help you, but only if you’re willing to trust me first.”  
I nod and a small smile spreads across both of our faces. “Also, I kinda like it when you call me your prince.”  
“It suits you.” he kisses my forehead and I snuggle into him. “Goodnight, your highness.”

“G’night, baby boy.” 

I sleep easily, only asking he hold me tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> kotenok (russian) = kitten


End file.
